


chi

by Volo



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire & Related Fandoms
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Biphobia, Bisexuality, Domestic Violence, Dubious Consent, F/F, Happy Ending, Internalized Homophobia, Joffrey dies like the loser he is, Married Joffrey Baratheon/Sansa Stark, Miscarriage, Present Tense, Some Humor, Time Skips
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-18
Updated: 2017-12-18
Packaged: 2019-02-16 10:47:35
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,608
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13052451
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Volo/pseuds/Volo
Summary: Sansa really means it when she answers, “I’ve never been better.”





	chi

**Author's Note:**

> okay, where do I start?  
> first of all, sorry for putting Sansa through abuse again like we don't have enough of that.  
> second, Joffrey isn't totally in character, but who cares, right? he's still irredeemable.  
> last but not least, thank you for reading!

 Seven. 

Sansa meets Joffrey Baratheon for the first time during some fancy party her parents are throwing. He’s blinking out at her from behind his mother. The first thought she has is that he looks exactly like she’d always known her prince would look like. He shakes her hand and she knows she blushes horribly. Sansa glances at her parents for help.

Her mom laughs and tells the Baratheon’s, "Look how cute they are. Wouldn’t it be amazing if they got married one day?"

All of them laugh together in the way adults do when they find children adorable. Sansa says, "Well, I’m already married to Jeyne, but maybe we can all get married together."

The laughter immediately ebbs away. 

"Sorry, you’re what?" Cersei says. 

Mom smiles, but it’s strained. "Sansa, you’re not married... You’re seven years old."

"We got friendship married! We don’t need some pastor or dress, we’re best friends! And we had pretty dresses anyway!" Sansa sees the looks everybody is exchanging and adds quickly, confusion rising, "That’s what it is! It’s not, like, weird, Mom. We’re friends!"

"I know, love. That’s sweet." Her Mom pats her head.

She talks to Joffrey again an hour later, when she has worked up enough courage to approach him. She asks him about his Christmas presents and it works because he doesn’t stop talking for an hour. The whole time, she gets to sit there and bask in his smile and pretty eyes. 

She’s startled out of it when he says, after she tells him a story about Jeyne, "Hey, don’t worry what your parents said. Dad says two girls kissing is hot."

"Oh, ah..."

"You think you could show me some time?"

His wide smile disarms every doubt she has. Butterflies in her stomach make her giggle and nod. She doesn’t even know what she’s agreeing to.

He opens his mouth to probably ask her their phone number or something cool like that, but a girl interrupts him. "Hi, I’m Margaery!"

She sticks their hand into their faces to shake and Sansa glares at her pretty nail polish. Despite that, she shakes the girl’s hand politely and doesn’t protest when Margaery ends up leading Joffrey away to show him her father’s new Lamborghini. 

"My Dad has two cool cars too!" she says, but not loudly enough. 

 

Sixteen.

She’s used to it now. Sansa frowns at her own body and then at Margaery’s fucking thigh gap and she frowns at her loads of homework and at the way Margaery plays on the Volleyball team, works at a fucking soup kitchen, takes, like, ten AP-classes and just fills up her time like everything is easy, she frowns at her B’s and Margaery’s A’s, she frowns and frowns and bites her tongue. Because how would her friends react if she suddenly started gossiping about this girl they all like better than her anyway? 

Besides, friends don’t hate friends. And they’re friends. Margaery made the birthday cake for her sixteenth birthday. Some low-sugar fruit thing, making Sansa immediately feel guilty about wanting anything with cream. But hey, she also gave Sansa a Louis Vuitton bag as a gift, so Sansa couldn’t complain. Except to herself, in her mind. Besides, the bag was so last season. 

She’s watching Margaery give a speech -- What is she doing up there anyway? What gives her the right to hold a speech? What kind of school lets their sixteen-year-old students hold speeches at events? -- when a hand touches her back. Sansa flinches and Joffrey smiles apologetically at her. 

"Did I startle you?"

"It’s... it’s okay. Hi", she whispers.

"Hi." He throws a glance at the stage. "What a snooze fest, huh?" 

She giggles before she can stop herself. When Joffrey smirks conspiratorially at her, her giggles grow even stronger. 

"Uh... kind of." 

"Nerd town central. Who cares about...? What’s this thing about?"

"Aids."

"Oh my god...” Joffrey groans. “Hey, let’s get out of here."

Sansa’s face heats up. She hasn’t even talked to him since he transferred to the school two months ago, but he already likes her? Sansa can’t believe her luck. 

"Yeah", she whispers. 

They sneak out and Joffrey wastes no time before pulling her into a supply closet. 

This is what her high school experience has been missing the entire time! Stolen kisses in dark corners and sweet smiles from cute boys! This whole time she’s been jealous of Margaery for dating around! She doesn’t have to anymore!

 

Twenty. 

She hasn’t really spoken to Margaery since high school ended, but she’s on the phone with her now. It’s not as awkward as she thought it would be. Margaery’s voice is so weirdly soothing and if she knows Sansa only called her for her family’s connections in the marketing industry, she doesn’t show it. 

Sansa asks her about university and only gets a small pang in her chest when Margaery says, "Harvard law."

She’s always been aware that Margaery was the most ambitious person she knew. The woman will end up being president or something and hey, good for her. Sansa has the life she wants too. She lives in a nice, modern, expensive apartment with her high school sweetheart and dream boyfriend, close to her parents’ house, she has amazing and supportive friends, she’s studying media, which she’s always wanted to do, and in her spare time she’s writing that high fantasy book she’s always dreamed about writing.

It can’t get better than this. 

She tells Margaery, "Joff just came home."

"You’re just as deep in puppy love as you were when you got together", is Margaery’s amused reply.

"I think he might propose soon", Sansa whispers into the phone.

"And you’re... really excited?"

"Of course!" 

And there it is again. That feeling Margaery always gives her of her knowing more than Sansa. Especially of her knowing that Sansa’s ideas are foolish and naive.

"Oh, that is sweet. I couldn’t imagine tying myself to somebody already. How do you know you won’t change your mind when you get older? Or that he’ll suddenly turn out to be not the fairytale prince you think he is?" Margaery’s voice gets sharp.

Annoyance wells up in Sansa. She’s already broken up her friendship with Jeyne because she and Joffrey hate each other and now Margaery too? 

"What do you mean?"

"Nothing much, I think... Just that I can’t imagine getting married already. I must be more immature than you."

"Really, you think?" Sansa asks, surprised.

"Oh, yes."

The thought of Margaery thinking of herself as inferior to Sansa in any way makes her grin stupidly. Joffrey wanders into the room and stops when he sees her face. "Who are you talking to?"

"Just Margaery", Sansa says quickly.

"Is that Joff?" Margaery asks in her ear.

"Yes."

"Alright, well, I’ll leave you to your fiancé."

The word makes Sansa smile. She can’t wait until she’s engaged. "Not yet... Goodbye, Margaery."

"Bye, Sans. I’ll call you tomorrow."

Once they’ve ended the call, Joff leans on the table and says, "You two are all close suddenly?"

"I’m... well, I need her connections to get that internship I told you about. But I like her and we’re friends, so it’s not like I’m just using her, right?"

"Oh, good. I already thought you were cheating or something."

"With Margaery?" Sansa laughs disbelievingly. She doesn’t even like girls. Margaery doesn’t either, probably, and if she did, she’d have better options. 

"No, with some dude from college or something. With the way you were looking. It’d be hot with Marg, though."

"I wouldn’t cheat on you!"

"Babe." Joff kisses her. "You’re right. I just get paranoid I guess."

"You don’t have to be." She trails her fingers down his chest.

"Hey, this was meant as a surprise, but I reserved us a table at the Plume tonight."

This is it. He’s about to pop the question. Sansa giggles into his chest like a madwoman. 

They’re on their way there when Joff says, "Hey, babe?"

"Yes?"

"I’ve been thinking..."

This is serious, she realizes. She sits up. "About what?"

"I hate D.C.... You know I hate D.C. Too many annoying people everywhere. Why don’t we just buy a house somewhere quiet? Without fucking homeless guys everywhere?"

"You want to leave the city?"

"Definitely. Immediately."

"Wait, immediately? What about college?"

He sighs. "Listen, Sansa. If we move somewhere quiet, you won’t find any marketing jobs there anyway. And, like, why do you even want to work? It’s not like you have to."

She stares. "You want me to be a housewife?"

"Hey, babe, that’s not how I meant it. This isn’t the sixties, right? But you could focus on your writing."

"I could", Sansa mumbles.

"I’m just saying... can’t you see us and our ten beautiful children in some three story villa in the mountains?"

She smiles. "That sounds nice."

Her parents wouldn’t be happy about her moving away, but she’s always wanted to live in a villa with her husband, surrounded by nature. 

"And what’s the point of that internship anyway? I really don’t think you should ask Marg about it."

The car pulls to a stop and Sansa blinks up at the fancy restaurant doors. She’s about to get engaged in there. "You’re right. She’ll think I’m using her and I might not need it anyway."

Joff kisses her cheek and gets out to open her car door.

She’s right about the proposal, of course. Joffrey even gets the staff to put the (amazing) ring in a champagne glass and surprise her with it. She cries and says yes and they kiss and the entire restaurant claps for them like she’d always dreamed.

 

Twenty-four. 

The doorbell rings and Sansa almost drops her powder. It can’t be Joffrey; he’s out with friends. She takes a deep breath and levels a last critical look at herself in the mirror. Red hair up in a perfect bun, her waist looking amazing in her designer dress, her bruises not visible under the makeup anymore. Perfect.

She has no idea who could be at the door, almost nobody visits them anymore except Cersei and her own mother sometimes, but Margaery would have been her last guess. Still, there she is, smiling lopsidedly at Sansa like she didn’t apparently just fly out into the middle of nowhere to drop in on them.

She looks good. Always, but Sansa hasn’t seen her since the wedding and even then, she didn’t have much time to talk to her. The caterers needed instructions and the band needed instructions and Joffrey hadn’t been any help at all in making sure everything was running smoothly.

“Margaery”, Sansa breathes out.

“Darling!” Margaery pulls Sansa closer and kisses her on both cheeks and Sansa does her best not to flinch. Margaery’s flowery perfume wafts over her and helps her breathe easier than she has in the last five months. “How are you?”

“I’m good, I’m great! How are you?”

“Great! I hope you don’t mind me dropping in on you out of nowhere!” Margaery pulls back and flutters her eyelashes apologetically. “It’s just that now after Renly’s win, we all needed a break from campaigning and I found this amazing spa close by. I tried calling, but nobody had your number!”

Sansa doesn’t know about any spas in the area because Sansa doesn’t leave the estate much and Sansa also doesn’t know about any campaigns Renly’s been running because Joff doesn’t really see the point in an internet connection and isn’t Renly gay anyway? How did he win?

She says, “Oh, I’ll give it to you. Congratulations on the win, by the way.”

She shows Margaery around the house and delights in the woman’s ohh’s and ahh’s. Finally somebody gets to admire the amount of work she’s put into designing everything. The highlight is obviously the huge marble bath tub with a view over the lake and she’s so proud of it, she can just barely restrain herself from telling Margaery how ridiculously expensive it was. Her husband likes spoiling her.

“Joff even takes bubble baths in there sometimes and you know him. He doesn’t even like bubble baths.” Sansa smiles.

“I bet you can have great sex in this thing”, Margaery comments with a laugh.

Sansa gives her a horrified glance before she can stop herself.

Margaery laughs again and says “Sorry”, but it sounds incredulous. “That was inappropriate.”

“No, ha, I just didn’t expect it.”

They’ve never done that. They don’t have a lot of sex anyway and it’s... not like Margaery thinks, probably. Sansa wonders what Margaery’s sex life is like. Maybe the rumors she heard were true, that Margaery hooked up with one of her bridesmaids during Sansa’s wedding.

Margaery probably has great sex, it shows in the way she carries herself, Sansa muses.

She clears her throat. “I’m afraid the only thing I can offer you is apple pie.”

“Darling, that’s perfect.”

They sit on the porch and talk for hours. Sansa wonders why she ever thought talking to Margaery was difficult and exhausting. She’s actually delightful and more human than Sansa remembers.

The sun is sinking and drowning everything in golden light and that’s probably the only reason that Sansa is this honest with Margaery. “You know... I kind of envied you as a teenager.”

As a teenager.

“Really?” Margaery sounds like she genuinely had no idea.

“Mh-hm. Your grades and... how pretty you were.”

Sansa is twenty-four years old, but right now, she feels like she’s sixty, her best days are behind her and it’s too late to change anything. She just has to accept that she wasn’t as successful as Margaery even as she grew up.

That, on the other hand, is something she’ll never tell Margaery, no matter how golden the light gets or how long the shadows.

Margaery’s laughter rings through the clear air. “That’s funny because I had a crush on you back then.”

Everything goes white for a moment. “Like...”

Margaery looks at her like this conversation is funny. “Like?”

“Like a crush crush?” Sansa asks her with an unconvincing laugh. She’s definitely not old enough yet to handle this particular conversation.

“Oh, yes, the most embarrassing crush.” Margaery’s eyes are still glittering as if she’s amused by the idea. Is she joking?

“I didn’t know... you... swung that way.” The words come out slowly.

“You didn’t? Oh. I came out as bi a few years back. It’s not official knowledge, but my closer circles all know.”

Sansa wonders what that means for her run for president at some point later in life. Then, if she’d experimented with Margaery if she’d known. Then, if Margaery still has feelings for her! Then, she wonders what Joffrey would think and she says, “Well, I’m happy for you. Congratulations. I’m straight.”

Of course she knows how awkward it sounds, she knew even before she said it, but she says it anyway. Margaery lets out an unwomanly snort.

“I’d never doubt that”, she answers and if it sounds like she’s telling some kind of inside joke, that’s because Margaery always sounds like that.

She stays until 6PM when Sansa politely makes her leave because she knows Joffrey is about to come home. Margaery kisses her on the cheek before she gets into the car and Sansa gets goosebumps this time.

She washes both of their coffee mugs and plates and puts them away just in time for Joff to not see them. He comes up behind her and kisses her on the same cheek. “Hey, babe.”

Sansa used to ask him about his day, but she doesn’t have the stomach for his hunting stories, so she just turns and kisses him on his lips.

“Myrcella’s pregnant”, he tells her.

Sansa gasps. “Oh my god! That’s amazing! I have to call her!”

“I was thinking...” He slings his arms around her waist and stops her from walking away. “We should try.”

“You... You want to have kids?”

“Of course.”

Sansa imagines him with children. If he is anything with them like he is with animals...

“Are you sure? We’re... We’re still so young.”

“Myrcella’s younger than us. And mother said you should already be pregnant. She’d already had me when she was twenty-four.”

Sansa gulps. “It’s such a big decision...”

“You’re right, babe.” He kisses her temple. “But I thought you’d be on board. We’ve always talked about wanting children. I can’t believe you’re having doubts now. Do you not love me anymore?”

“Of course I love you!”

“Is this about what happened last week? I’m so sorry, babe, I told you. I’d never hit you. I don’t know what happened. You know it won’t happen again, right? I love you. I love you so much and I adore you and I want to spend my life with you.” He pulls back to look into her eyes. “Please. Do you forgive me?”

“Of course! I’ve already forgiven you, baby.” The relief on his face is so strong, her heart hurts. She repeats, “I love you.”

“So you want to try?”

“Yes!”

He leads her to the bedroom and it’s... It’s the same as always, really. She lies down on the bed and they kiss a lot and he kisses down her body and up again until he slides in and it’s normal, okay? It’s totally normal. Maybe it’s not totally normal how he sometimes, maybe, goes out of his way to hurt her, scratch her, bite her, but still, it’s normal.

 

Thirty.

Sansa’s hands are trembling, but she holds them up in the air, eyes fixed on the gun.

“Apologize”, Joffrey instructs her.

“I’m sorry.”

“For?” He waves the gun impatiently.

“For b-breaking the plate.”

“And?”

She closes her eyes and whispers the same thing she’s been saying for years, “And I’m sorry for losing our baby.”

“Thank you. See, that wasn’t so hard. Why do you always make such a fuss about these things?” He kisses her temple and puts the gun back in his nightstand.

She gets up from the floor and adjusts her dress. Looking down at the shiny dark wood floors, she mumbles, “I’ll go clean up.”

Being hit in the face with a gun by your husband is no excuse to be untidy. What would her mother say if she just left everything dirty? Sansa doesn’t know because she hasn’t talked to Catelyn or Ned Stark in years. They don’t even know where she lives now. She and Joff have moved at least two times in the last three years.

“Thanks, babe”, Joff says and leaves to do God knows what he does in his shed. Make her a beautiful cabinet or torture small animals to death, she couldn’t tell these days.

She cleans up and makes dinner even though it’s 4AM. The whole time, she keeps on looking at the shed through her kitchen window, but she’s safe. Joffrey usually only blows up once a day, sometimes he doesn’t for days, she’s just so ridiculously fussy, he always tells her. She doesn’t need to worry all the time.

Dinner’s done and in the fridge until it’s time to eat. She goes upstairs and absently wonders if they even have any suitcases. They might, but what’s the point? He’d just follow her. And what would she even pack? And where’s the next town?

And then what? Get on the bus and drive back to her parents’ house in D.C.? She doesn’t even have money.

She could sell her jewelry... Her wedding ring.

Right, that’d go over really well with Joffrey when he shows up at the Starks’ house and drags her back to wherever they are, forever stuck in between beautiful mountain views and green fields.

What if she went somewhere else and just hid?

She sits down on their bed and looks at his nightstand. She’s known it was there for the last year, but... He’d never pulled it on her.

One of her friends’ houses, maybe, but who even counts as her friend anymore? She’s burned all of her bridges over time. She always stuck with Joff when he was fighting with her friends. Maybe he’d done that deliberately.

Margaery would take her in if she told her what had happened. She’s never fought with Margaery. They exchanged long letters and talked on the phone a lot until she and Joff moved too far away from civilization and Joff got his weird ideas about technology distracting from the important things in life and maybe it had actually made her lose the baby.

Sansa feels nothing anymore when she thinks of the baby. It’s all numb.

Margaery would take her in, but then she’d have to... to pack her things and leave the premises without Joff noticing and walk for hours until she gets somewhere civilized if there’s any place like that anywhere around at all and sell her things if anybody even wanted them and get on the bus and then drive to some unknown destination or maybe she could look up Margaery’s address somewhere first and then show up at Margaery’s house and tell her... tell her she’s being abused by her husband who’s probably on his way there.

She couldn’t.

She couldn’t.

She couldn’t.

She could.

She can and she will.

She’s thirty years old and she’s ready to begin her life.

Sansa stands up, looks out the window for five minutes. Then, she grabs the gun and packs her things.

In the end, it’s all easier than it should be. Please, she’d at least like the universe to assure her that she had good reason to stay in hell because leaving was near impossible.

She walks until she comes across a highway where she waits until somebody stops to see if the crying woman in designer clothes standing by the highway is okay. They take her to some mid-sized city where she visits a pawnshop and an internet café.

From there it’s even easier. She takes the bus and ends up right in the middle of Manhattan. From there, it’s the A-train to Brooklyn and she’s here. It’s early in the morning and Joff definitely knows she’s not there, but that doesn’t matter anymore.

Except it does and she’s crying again and that’s the exact moment Margaery leaves her apartment complex. She sees Sansa. Even though she’s obviously stunned and it’s probably making her late to some important meeting, she hugs Sansa tightly. Sansa flinches when she squeezes her bruises and Margaery immediately lets go.

“Oh, Sansa.” No words needed. “Come in!”

 

Thirty-seven.

She maybe would have hesitated more if Margaery had suggested it. But really, it was Sansa’s wish.

So here she is, smiling at Margaery’s repeated assurances that she can stop everything and get out at any time. “I know, Marg. I trust you.”

And isn’t that the ultimate victory? After everything, being able to trust her lover so much again that she lets Margaery tie her to their bed?

Margaery takes a few steps back and looks her over critically. “How do you feel?”

Sansa looks up at her arms and experimentally tries moving them. She can’t go anywhere. “I feel good. I told you, I can take the blindfold too.”

“Do you want to?”

“Yes. I’ve always wanted to do something like this.” But she couldn’t with... Joffrey.

Margaery steps up to the bed and leans over Sansa to blindfold her. The ends of her long hair tickle Sansa’s stomach and she laughs. Her world goes black. She hears Margaery say, “Stop me at any time if you want to, yeah?”

“Yeah.” Sansa is so sure of herself that she almost sounds impatient as she says it.

The bed dips and it feels like Margaery sits down between her spread legs. Margaery kisses her. She trails fingers down Sansa’s stomach. They’ve barely started, but it’s all so much more intense than usually. Sansa’s smiling so wide.

Margaery drops a surprise kiss on her inner left thigh, then another one. She starts a trail of kisses all leading closer to Sansa’s vagina, but stops before they get to the good part. Sansa doesn’t even have to see her to know how she’s looking, all smirk-y, but so obviously delighted at their love-making.

That’s the moment Sansa realizes. “Marg.”

“Do you want to stop?”

“No. I want to marry you.”

Silence for a second. Maybe this wasn’t the most appropriate moment to propose.

“Oh, Sansa!” Margaery hugs her. “Yes. Of course.”

Ten minutes later, Margaery’s sitting on her face and twenty minutes later, Sansa has one of the best orgasm of her life thus far.

That’s not quite the story they tell Olenna and Mom and Dad when they announce the news at brunch the next day. They make up something about having dinner and Sansa proposing in a bit more thought-out manner.

Sansa would have never thought she’d tell her parents about her engagement to a woman and that’d be the one thing she worries about. But a lot has changed. So much that when she told everybody that they were dating four years back, nobody was surprised. It’d all happened so naturally.

So naturally that Sansa almost hadn’t noticed what she was doing when she’d initiated their first kiss because it had seemed like the most natural way of saying goodbye.

Margaery leans into her when their families are busy talking about their charities and asks, “Engagement rings. I’m thinking classics. Matching diamonds, round. But big ones.”

Sansa knows Margaery’s asking for her opinion. Sansa knows Margaery’s okay with her disagreeing. Sansa agrees because she likes the idea. “Sounds great.”

They look at pictures of rings on the internet until Margaery glances at the clock. “Don’t you have a book signing soon?”

She was right. A book signing and a talk beforehand about recognizing and stopping domestic abuse. “Oh, yeah. And I think you have a campaign event.”

She’s gathering her things when she sees him out of the corner of her right eye. After all this time, she’d still recognize him anywhere.

Sansa’s blood freezes in her veins, but she takes a deep breath. He’s violating his restraining order. She’ll sue him for all he has and put him in fucking jail if she has to. There’s thousands of girls around the world looking up to her and her story and she will not be intimidated.

Joffrey stops in front of their table. Her family falls silent.

“Do you really think you can just divorce me and live happily ever after?”

“Yes. I do.” Sansa says coldly. “That’s what I’m doing right now while you’re wallowing away pathetically. Go back to whatever hole you crawled out of. You know you’re not allowed to be close to me. I’m calling the police.”

He grabs a knife from a nearby table and hisses, “If I go down, you go down. Our stories end together.”

Sansa vaguely registers screams, but her mind goes sharp and focused. She has to get distance between them. She’s not a victim.

She moves back, she grabs a knife herself without a clear plan of what to do. Then, a gunshot.

Joffrey falls to the ground, bleeding. Dead. Shot in the head.

For a second, Sansa thinks it was her, even though she doesn’t even have a gun in her hand. But there’s Olenna, holding a gun. Olenna gives her a nod.

The sounds comes back on in Sansa’s head and everything moves at normal speed again all of a sudden. Margaery’s running towards her. “Sans! Sans! Oh my god!”

“Are you okay?”

“Me? Are you okay?”

Sansa really means it when she answers, “I’ve never been better.”


End file.
